Jesus loves this Witch

At 16 years old, I was a Witch. I was fixated on my powers, and pretty much thought I knew everything that one could know. I was disgusted by mainstream religion, especially Christianity, which seemed to be shoved down my throat as well as the throats of everyone else around me, primarily by the culture of Irvine, California; the cookie-cutter suburb I grew up in. After a few choice Bible study groups that I was coerced into at younger ages, followed by the extreme anxiety and nausea I felt after the pastors would explain that we would be going to eternal damnation unless we let Jesus into our hearts and basically begged God to forgive us for being sinners, I was completely turned off. And scared. How could grown-ups spend their time frightening children like this? And of course anytime I would bring up my psychic abilities to a person of this religious faith, I was asked if I thought these gifts came from the Devil. At one point as an 8 or 9 year old, I remember meditating and asking Jesus to come into my heart, and felt nothing. I just felt empty, and very let down. I figured that whoever this Jesus guy was, he didn't care about me, and so I wouldn't care about him. And so, when the idea that God was a man as well as a woman came into my field, I breathed a sigh of relief. I had a much easier time seeing God and Goddess as my nurturing parents than I ever did as some seemingly grumpy old man. From this space, I began to practice my craft, which in all honesty wasn't that deep or committed, but seemed to give me a sense of security within the harsh nature of the environment of my community. I liked that it scared certain people enough to the point that they would leave me alone. I loved the feeling of power. I was not in full integrity at that time, still had much to learn, and I didn't always have the best intentions, but I wasn't a mind-slave either, which seemed worth it to me. I also wouldn't say that I viewed my Witchy-ness as a religion per se, but rather as a spiritual system that could enable me to use my gifts without the same fear I had felt so many times before when being asked about my association with the Devil, who, as far as I knew at the time, did not exist in the Craft (the Dark side of Witchcraft is a story for another time). I studied the religion of Wicca, and from it, picked and chose the aspects that resonated with me, and applied them, rather clumsily as I look back upon it. So when a friend came to me and asked me to go with him to his Bible Study group one afternoon at school, I kind of scoffed at him. He was a sweet young man, who I was pretty sure was gay and struggling with it, though he had never revealed this to me. He had eyes that emanated so much beauty and love that when he looked at me again and asked me to join him, I sighed and said, "fine, alright." This friend and I shared a class together at school, and instead of focusing on whatever the subject was, we would exchange poetry. He was a fantastic poet, and so was I. Through the poetry we connected, and it gave me solace in such a tumultuous time in my life. His nickname for me was Phoenix, because he said that I kept reinventing myself and rising from the ashes, and it inspired him. Our connection was so special to me. I loved this man. The next night, he took me to his Bible study group. I sat in the back with him, and did my best to listen, but that nauseating feeling came over me again, and I felt like I might burst. I could feel the group mentality of the room like a thick, sickening fog around me. I raised my hand, and let everyone know that I was a Witch and psychic. I explained that I couldn't really see how God could be as frightening as was being portrayed and I'm sure babbled on for several minutes about my various views at that time. I really did love attention and shock value. To my surprise, this group seemed more interested than frightened, and after a few questions directed at me, went back to the studying the Bible. My friend seemed shaken up after my display, and I looked at him and said, "Sorry, I couldn't help myself." He had watery eyes, and his book of poems in his hands. I looked at him as to inquire if I had really embarrassed him that much, and without words, he took my meaning and shook his head no, a moment later opening his book to a certain page and handing it to me. I looked down and saw a poem entitled, "San Francisco." I read it, with tears building up in my eyes, as the poem revealed that he was gay, and frightened for his soul. I just held his hand in silence for the remainder of the group, and could feel him shaking. I squeezed his hand to let him know that it was alright. This sweet, loving young man, who was one of the gentlest people I had ever met, was scared for his soul, because of the way he NATURALLY was. "Fuck this Jesus shit," I thought to myself. I was mad. This was not ok. After the Bible study group, refreshments were offered, and my friend and I nibbled and sipped as a courtesy, and as to not arouse any suspicion because I knew he was just barely holding it together. Looking back I wonder if my "coming out of the Witch closet" to the group had triggered his coming out to me, and if that would inspire him to take it further. As we were getting ready to wrap it up, a woman approached me, explaining that she was the Pastor's wife. She told me about how she used to communicate with Spirits, and that I should be very careful, because sometimes we can bring in Satan, demons, or dark entities. I told her that I didn't believe in Satan, and that I would never bring in a demon or dark entity. Little did I know then that there truly are demons and dark entities, but again, I knew everything, because I was 16. She then asked me if I was open to her laying her hands on me and inviting Jesus into my heart. "I tried that when I was a kid and nothing happened," I told her. "Would you be open to trying again?" she asked serenely. "Ok, I'll give it a try," I said, as goosebumps began spreading across my body. "Jesus Christ, I ask you now to please enter the heart of this young woman!" she cried, as every head in the room turned to look at us. I felt a heat wave coming from her hands, and the instant she placed them over my heart, I fell down, shaking and trembling. Jesus' face appeared to me in my 3rd eye, and I began sobbing. "Call me Yeshua," he said gently, taking my face in his hands. Then he looked at me with so much love it took my breath away. He looked straight through me, and then his eyes squinted at me as though in recognition. "I have missed you as you have missed me," he said, with tears forming in his eyes. A moment later, I came to, and everyone was staring at me. The Pastor's wife was speaking French so rapidly, that it shocked me to hear it, as I hadn't noticed until that moment. I quickly got up, said thank you, and ran off with my friend, both of us dumbstruck. My friend and I left the Bible study group changed people that night. A short while later, he came out to his parents and community, and I made my peace with Yeshua. From that day forward, after having SEEN him, I knew that he was nothing but pure love and compassion, and had so much more to teach me than the Bible ever could. I knew I would be seeing him again, and that we had much work to do together. But most of all I knew that Jesus truly did love this Witch.

Cover Art By: Jared Barnes